Rescued Us
by KaylaDestroyer
Summary: What exactly happened to the pirates that made them pirates? In such a diverse group, rich with characters of different types, shocking backgrounds are inevitable. How did they personally change in leaving their former worlds behind? Discover who they used to be, and how their lives were changed...Forever. Rated T for gore and angsty pasts.
1. Zero to Pirate

Rescued Us

Zero to Pirate

A small rabbit doe lay curled on a rug of animal fur, her room being a small cabin inside a large iceberg that traveled the ocean. She thought she'd found true love, only to have him slip out on her. But she didn't care anymore; now she could expand her captain's crew. Eight tiny little balls of fluff were snuggled against her, wriggling around with each other, nursing hungrily. She smiled at them in a way that wasn't exactly motherly; rather it was more scheming than loving. But all the same, there was a twinkle of affection in her hazel eyes as she bent down to nuzzle and lick her litter of kits, her dark grey fur so ruffled and wild it covered them halfway. She was careful not to scratch them with her broken buck tooth; her own lower lip had a permanent scar where the jagged tooth constantly caught on it.

She had yet to name any of them; she wanted to wait and see exactly what qualities they would display, what titles would best fit them. A creak made her ear twitch, and she turned to see her door had been opened with nary a knock. In strode a large, burly ape-like creature, with black fur that hung off his wrists like cuffs and an almost ridiculous tuft on his head in a tricorn shape. The doe's eyes widened; this was her captain. And he didn't look as though he'd come to congratulate. Not wanting her weakness and worry to show, she turned her back to him and curled a little more around her kits. "Captain Gutt," she addressed him coolly.

"Former First Mate," the ape replied with equal coolness. The new mother tensed; he had demoted her?

"Might I ask who has so kindly taken my place?" she inquired.

"Shira," the ape replied curtly. "I find her to be much less..._susceptible_ to mistakes," The doe clenched her teeth; she had been demoted simply because of her own wish to make her own little pirate warriors? It wasn't like there were many options for the rank; up until a few days ago, there had only been two crew members aside from Gutt himself. Now, she'd given him a group of future pirate warriors, and he'd had the nerve to take away her position?!

"How _wise_ of you," she drawled sarcastically. "Put a carnivore in charge after the previous First Mate becomes a mother. Allow betrayal to root itself in your shadow," she spat.

"Betrayal has many faces, Agaisha," Gutt snapped. "And it has many punishments," Agaisha laid a paw over her kits; she was violent, and hot tempered, and sarcastic, and a whole boatload of undesirable traits, but she wasn't _stupid_.

"They can fight for you," she hissed. "They can be trained, taught, strengthened better than _me_," she reasoned. "And there's _eight_ of them,"

"Be that as it may," Gutt's deep voice rumbled. "You were out of permittance. That makes any and all usefulness they may have null and void. And you know the punishment for being useless on a pirate ship," Now Agaisha's mind was racing; she wasn't giving up her babies without a fight.

"Can you blame me?" she hissed. "He seemed worthy of my time, and it's still February!"

"Which merely states you have a lack of self control," At this point Agaisha's nerves got the best of her. In a move that solidified Gutt's statement, she leapt into the air and attacked his face, claws outstretched, her knife currently out of reach. But Gutt merely smacked her into the wall, where she slammed into the unforgiving ice and dropped to the floor with a grunt. She rolled over and crouched on all fours, growling, ready to charge him again. Suddenly, however, a small blur was hurdling at her. A gray blur, just like her own fur, whimpering with its eyes closed.

Facial expression contorting from anger to shock to fear, Agaisha let out a yelp and dove for her kit, catching it in her paws and turning in the air, slamming into the ice floor on her side. She held it tightly to her chest and gave it a quick sniff-over, making sure the child hadn't been hurt. Much too late, she looked up with wide eyes to where her seven other babies lay defenseless. A large claw ripped through the first two, which had been separated from their brother's and sisters by the removal of the kit she now cradled. They let out weak, high pitched cries of pain, before about two seconds of massive bleeding robbed them of life. The moment they'd gone silent, something in the pirate rabbit's heart cracked tremendously, and she gave a gasp, holding her third born kit even tighter. "_NO_!" she screamed, watching as the remaining five were given the same treatment, before sprinting from the room with a heartbroken screech.

She raced through the ship's tunnels and burst into the open sunlight, tears glistening brightly in her eyes as they began to stain her fur. After blinking away the stinging sensation in her retinas, Agaisha ran over to an obscure little corner where she would be hidden from sight but not the warm sunlight, and fell to her knees, sobbing, clutching her one surviving child. In her heart, she knew she had disobeyed the Law of Pirates; this was treatment she deserved from the rules she'd sworn to live by. So why did it hurt her, Agaisha, one of the most brutal pirates to ever sail the seas, so very, very, _badly_? In all truth, she was lucky to have just one for herself, still alive. Yet she wished Gutt had taken a kinder route; there was no rule that said the offspring _had_ to die if they were not approved of, merely that the mother lost them. They could have been left on land to be found by another family.

But no; Gutt was a captain who ruled with an iron fist. He would kill all but one of her kits, so that even though she _did_ have at least one to raise and love and train, the child would forever be a reminder of what she'd done. If the whole litter had been lost, it would be all too easy for Agaisha to forget and start over, to never even care about the babies she'd lost and her disobedience. With this one little kit however, it would not be so; she would always remember. The pain of that buck's betrayal, the struggle of childbirth, and the devastation of losing all but one kit would never leave her. She could hear Shira padding across the deck to her, she could feel the saber's presence behind her. But the new First Mate said nothing, merely stood there for a while, before moving on.

Deciding that she'd cried enough for her lost little ones, despite the ache that still clung to her heart, Agaisha pulled the tiny kit in her paws away from her chest, observing it. It was a boy; his fur was the same dark grey shade as his mother, only his underside was a lighter white shade. His ears were long and floppy, if tiny, and hung limply from his head. His nose was oh so tiny, and edged in pink. His tiny cottontail flicked every few moments, and he was shaking, as if afraid. Agaisha blinked, allowing the tears to drain completely from her eyes down her face, and her ears seemed to unclog themselves of sorrow. She was surprised to hear high pitched crying, her son's jaw dropped open to reveal toothless gums as he screamed very weakly for comfort.

A single tear dribbled down his nose. "Oh..." she whispered wobbily upon realizing her baby was in great discomfort. "There there," she whispered, shifting her paws around so that they were clasped beneath the kit, creating a safe bowl for him to lay in. Her pointer finger stroked his tiny temple with care as Agaisha sniffled to herself. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm sorry you don't have any littermates to cuddle with...not anymore," she muttered. The kit's wails dialed down to whimpers as he shifted around in her paws, head thrashing slightly left and right.

"But you'll be okay," she assured, the phrase more air than voice. "Mommy's here; mommy'll protect you," she continued. The kit simply shivered within her grasp, then gave a small coo. Agaisha smiled tinily. Then, to her shock, the kit rubbed his face with his wrist, and blinked open his eyes. He stared blearily up at her, letting his mouth open and releasing several odd cooing sounds. Her eyes widened.

"Oh...oh, hi there," she whispered. The male kit blinked rapidly for a moment, before beginning to cry once more, paws held out pleadingly to her. "Oh, I'm so stupid! You're probably hungry!" Agaisha exclaimed softly. "Come here now, shhhhhh, shhhhh...it's okay, mommy's here. Don't cry," she shushed, laying on her side and holding the kit by her stomach, keeping one paw between him and the icy cold deck. Instantly he ceased to cry, eagerly latching on and nursing once more.

Agaisha smiled softly, using her thumb to stroke his tiny cheek as he drank. The kit stared up his mother's face, holding eye contact with her as he nourished himself, as if curious about her. Agaisha took note of his greeny-brown irises, just like his father, as he stared unblinkingly at her for several moments. "_He's_ thinking_,_" she realized. "_He can't even talk yet and he's _thinking_,_" After a moment, she asked, "What should I call you?" Her son shifted around, resituating himself, before nursing again.

The side of his face was now pressed against her stomach slightly, warping his expression into a squint as he continued to stare at her. The mother dam giggled softly. "Squint..." she whispered softly, before reaching down to rub against him with her nose. "I'll call you Squint,"

* * *

Agaisha stumbled over the slippery deck, fighting to find her way in the vicious, pelting rain. Her son had slid away from her due to a large wave rocking the ship, and she had to find him. She had to protect him from getting washed overboard, or sliding off of his own accord. "Mah-mee!" a young, high pitched voice wailed somewhere in front of her.

"Squint!" she called back, peering through the unrelenting downpour. She barely managed to make out a vine rope connected to the ship's mainmast, snaking across the deck to the straight drop off that was the edge. Her eyes widened in horror, and she slipped over as fast as she could, throwing herself down once she'd reached the side of the ship. There was her young son, gripping the vine rope with both paws, his tiny body being mercilessly thrown about by the wind and the waves bashing him into the ice ship's hull. For a moment she feared he'd receive brain damage before drowning. His greeny-brown eyes peered back up at her, blinking in the rain, arms trembling.

"Ma-mee!" he wailed, eyes fearfully.

"Mommy's comin', sweetheart!" Agaisha called, scooting herself over the edge and reaching down to him. Squint was only five now; he'd learned a good deal of weapons training, but he lacked the strength of an older kit. He'd never hang onto the rope long enough for Agaisha to pull him back up, and he wouldn't be strong enough to swim either, especially not with the angry temper tantrum the sea was throwing currently. Once she'd situated herself securely with her stomach on the edge of the ship, the doe grabbed hold of the vine and pulled it up some. Squint detached one paw to reach out for her, whimpering softly.

"H-help!" he begged shakily.

"It's alright," Agaisha assured, pulling the vine rope up a little more, reaching down to her son. "Come here baby, come here!" she called. The two rabbits strained to reach for each other, the rain wearing away their strength and security with every passing minute. "Come on, Squint!" she shouted over the rain. "Come to mommy!" The tiny kit reached his paw towards her, still being thrown around by the wind. The storm only seemed to try to part them; thunder boomed loudly as lightning struck the sea, the winds whipping furiously.

Agaisha slid forward an inch more, her claws brushing against Squint's paw. Suddenly the ship gave a lurch, pitching her over the edge. Agaisha's eyes widened, but she didn't cry out. Rather, she took hold of the vine rope as she fell, also wrapping a paw around her son's middle. In one swift movement, she implemented one of her favorite sword throwing techniques and pitched her child safely back onto the deck. Then she was promptly slammed against the ship's hull with no time to react except grip the vine with all her strength. She grunted as her jaw collided with the unforgiving ice, feeling something within her head crack drastically.

Blood began seeping between her teeth, dribbling down her chin. "Ma-mee?" a small voice called. Jerking her head up, Agaisha saw Squint crouched on the edge of the deck, his tiny feet struggling to stay put on the slippery ice. Eyes wide, she gestured at him to back up.

"Squint, get _away_ from the edge!" she screeched. Suddenly the vine she held onto went taught. Then it began to strain within her paws. Agaisha glanced between the vine and her son with despair. If she didn't haul herself up, she'd never see him again. She took a good look at him; his fur drenched in salt- and rainwater combined, greeny-brown eyes wide and fearful, nose twitching forlornly as he stared hopefully down at her, ears drooped heavily against the back of his head, body shivering as he struggled to stay still. Snapping sounds reached her ears, but she couldn't seed what was happening on the deck.

"Ma-mee?!" he called, sounding even more frazzled. She knew he was terrified by the lack of words coming from his mouth; Squint was normally a hyper little chatterbox, asking any questions that came into his mind, whether or not they were about weapon forms. Now he seemed unable to say anything except call for her. Her jaw was on fire now, more blood leaking from her mouth as she dug her claws into the icy hull, not that they could penetrate it that well. Such a sight seemed to make his terrified eyes widen. Groaning, Agaisha detached her paw and held it out towards him in a placating manner.

"It's gonna' be okay, Squint!" she shouted over the storm. "You're gonna' be okay, baby!" She winced as she saw him carefully reach one paw down to her.

"Ma-mee?" he whispered. Agaisha smiled weakly at him, her tongue half soaked with her own blood.

"Shhhhhhh..." she whispered back, more blood seeping between her teeth. He stumbled slightly, falling on his stomach and gripping the edge of the ship. Tears began to brim in his eyes. "Shhhhhhhhh..." she repeated. A snapping noise reached her ears, and she felt the tension in the vine disappear. Suddenly she was free falling, the wind whipping her body around before bashing her into a large wave. She surged to the surface one time, and glimpsed her son in the secure grip of a large, black-furred hand.

He was reaching both arms out to her, mouth open in a scream. But she could hear nothing now. Not the booming thunder, not the lightning strikes, not even the blood pulsing in her ears. Squint was safe, that was all that mattered. She sighed, eyes fluttering closed as the blood spilling from her mouth stained the water around her. She felt the sea close above her head, and then there was nothing.

* * *

Squint squirmed within his captain's grasp, screaming out for his mother. But Gutt merely knuckle-walked over to the center of the deck, plopping him in the pile of bounty and telling him to stay put. The tiny kit shivered in the cold rain, tears streaking down his face, unsure how to respond to what he'd seen. Why had his mother's mouth been leaking that red stuff? Would she come back? Would he see her again after the storm was over? He heard Gutt call Shira over gruffly, and then told her to watch him.

The saber padded over and stationed herself in front of Squint, claws digging into the ice to steady herself. She stared condescendingly down at him, while the young rabbit peered fearfully up at her. The storm began to lessen little by little, the rain lessened, and the ship stopped pitching so violently. Yet Shira stayed, watching him. Apparently she'd been assigned to babysitting duty. As the day wore on Squint shakily dried the tears from his eyes and sniffled to himself, not speaking a word. It felt strange to keep his trap shut for so long, but every time he tried to ask about his mother, about _anything_, his throat would tighten against his own will and his mouth would feel like a whole apple had been shoved into it.

He had never liked Shira very much; she wasn't like his mother. Agaisha had been rough and wild, always knowing some sort of fun activity to make throwing blades around look easy and like he was practicing. She had taught him a lot in five years. But Shira had always been distant; she looked and acted like she was more important and worth more than his mother, and it made Squint's chest sting with injustice. Even worse, Agaisha had told him Shira had taken her position as First Mate when he was born. She never said why, or if there had been a reason at all, but she always seemed a bit..._sad_ about it. In fact, it was the only thing Squint had ever known to sadden his mother.

So he viewed Shira as a thief, of sorts; she'd taken his mother's position, and she always harassing the rabbit doe. It made him angry, but his mother had told him not to get himself involved; that it didn't matter. But now, Squint was stuck with only Shira, unless the captain decided to go back and retrieve Agaisha. Once the sky had completely cleared, Gutt returned to the bounty pile, relieving Shira of her duty. He pulled Squint from the pile and set the kit on his feet. Squint stood on the large deck, feeling smaller than ever, staring up at his enormous captain, trembling. "C-captain?" he squeaked, his voice still high pitched like the small child he was.

He hoped it would get deeper someday, like his mother had said. "A-are we gonna' go look for her?" he inquired. Gutt shook his head.

"She's gone, Squint," he said. The kit's eyes widened.

"I-is she coming back?" he asked hopefully.

"I'm afraid not," Gutt replied lowly. Squint's face contorted into a sob, and he lowered his head. He felt a large claw press against his chin, and his head was tilted back up to make eye contact with the pirate captain. "Now now Squint, you don't think Agaisha would want you to act like this, do you?" he chided gently. The tiny kit blinked, expression slackening from despair to curiosity. "She was a pirate, and you're one too. She would want you to be strong, to continue learning and fighting."

"Becoming a fearsome warrior would make her proud, don't you think?" he reasoned. Squint blinked for a moment, thinking. After a moment he nodded.

"I-I guess so," he replied, giving a sniffle and drying his eyes on one wrist. Gutt smiled meanly down at him. It actually frightened the kit a little bit.

"That's a good boy," he praised, harshly patting Squint's head. He stumbled back a step under the weight of the ape's hand. Then he stood uncertainly on the deck, looking up at Gutt for guidance. "Now, let's get you properly outfitted, shall we?" Gutt suggested. He grabbed Squint up by his scruff, causing him to instinctively curl into a ball in midair. He knuckle-walked over to a weapons rack that was secured to the deck, then dropped Squint lightly onto the deck. The rabbit buck sat flopped on the deck as his captain scanned through the weapons.

"Ah, here we are," With that a large-ish knife was dropped in front of Squint. He blinked at it, before tilting his head back up to look at Gutt. The knife was a couple inches longer than the kit was tall. "You should grow into this nicely. A bit of extra weight will make you strong, too," the ape explained. "Now go on, pick it up," he instructed.

Squint looked back down at the weapon, and tentatively licked his lips. His mother had promised that, when she finally allowed him to hold a real blade, she'd give him one that she knew would fit his adult self, one that would be comfortable for him. "Your mother said she thought it would fit you best," the ape added, as if to encourage him. Now a bit more interested, and at the same time feeling heavy at the memory of his mother, Squint rose to his feet and took the knife in both paws. With some difficulty, he hefted in into the air, holding it out from his body, observing it with a trained eye. Gutt was right; it seemed a bit heavy in his grasp, but surely it would make him stronger, and it would get easier as he got older. "Satisfactory?" the ape inquired.

Squint nodded slowly. "Yeah," he replied, no longer stuttering. Gutt smiled and gave a nod.

"Good. Show me one of the sets she taught you," he requested. Squint tested the weight and balance of the knife in his paws for a moment, before tossing it into the air, watching it spin. When it slapped into his palm once more, the weight almost knocked the kit off his feet. But he kept his balance, and spun it in his fingers for a moment, before throwing it into his other paw and making two diagonal slashes in the air. Then he let his arm drop with a pant, the tip of the knife denting the ice deck. After regaining his breath he drew himself up, standing tall, shoulders back, chest out like Agaisha had taught him.

Gutt grinned an nodded once more. "Very good, Mister Squint," he praised. The kit gave a tiny, half hearted grin. The captain had never praised him before; that had always been his mother's job, as she was in charge of his training. Plus there was still a persistent ache in his tiny little chest. "Welcome to the crew," Gutt declared.

* * *

**_WHAT HAVE I DONE_?! I haven't written anything this angsty in a long time...Funny thing, it is _really_ easy to write about a mother sacrificing herself for her child and suffering a bleeding mouth when you've got "_I believe I believe I believe I believe I believe I believe I believe I believe I believe I believe I believe I believe in love, love!_" playing in your ears. XD Kudos to whoever can guess which movie that's from!**

**Anyways, this is a one-shot project I decided to do surrounding how the pirate crew was formed. I'm gonna' try my best to do all of them. The main reason I'm doing this is because I've decided to discontinue 'Changed' since the plot isn't exactly shaping up properly. I want to send the right message when I write, and I don't think I set the series up properly to portray the message I had in my mind. Plus, I'm working on my own book at the moment, so I want to input the bulk of my writing into _that_. But I don't want to give up Fanfiction, so for the moment I plan to post some one-shot projects, starting with this one. So yeah...I think that's it...**

**Please review! ^.^ Up next is Razzie!**


	2. Taming the Beast

**OMW you guys! Eight reviews on the first chapter? Amazing! XD I'm so glad this idea grabbed the eye of some readers out there! Thank you so much, guys and girls! And I formlly apologize for breaking your hearts. XD Warning though: Razzie's past contains a healthy does of blood and violence.**

**Not because I'm a fan of gore, but because I love the adrenaline and tension of battle...So yeah, it get's a little gross. And then there's some really sad past even _before_ that...basically her story is _NOT_ pretty.**

**YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.**

* * *

Rescued Us

Taming the Beast

Gutt was pleased with Squint's development over the past four years. Most of his kind would have been severely devastated, practically killed by the loss of their single parent. But not him; Squint practiced all that Agaisha had taught him every day, from the moment he awoke until exhaustion knocked him out. He never let any lingering pain show, and he worked to sharpen his skills every waking moment. And yet Gutt was..._not_ satisfied. Squint's knowledge and skill, sharp as they were, were also limited. He needed someone he could employ to take on the task of teaching him more, and it couldn't be Shira.

It was clear Squint harbored a grudge of sorts against her, and if she tried to teach him so much as how to slice someone's throat open with his claws, he'd snap at her in his very violent, crass attitude that he'd developed since his mother had drowned. For seven years old, the young buck had a wit about him and a sharp tongue constantly barbed with insults, all for the she-cat whom he blamed for his mother's emotional discomfort. No, Gutt needed someone else to train Squint.

The solution came on one of his shore leaves.

While he had one home port in particular, he made routine stops in other places for special supplies. He left Shira in charge, much to Squint's displeasure, and disembarked with the intent of finding a new crew member. This particular section of the continent was rich with strange creatures, most of them dangerous, but nothing that called Gutt's name, nothing that impressed him in particular. Until he came across a strange grouping of one creature in particular. The kangaroo, an iconic animal in this area, was a large, strong animal, the males bearing a tendency to box each other. An alpha jack would do nicely on his crew, Gutt thought, until he realized the reason for the strangely odd crowd of kangaroos in this specific spot. After fighting his way through the throng, Gutt found himself staring at a deep pit in the ground, at least fifteen feet into the earth.

It was very wide; perhaps the length of fifteen mammoths. In it two kangaroos were wrestling around, the match having just begun. They were both jacks, and they weren't boxing; Gutt could only guess they were trying to _kill_ each other, or at least come close to it. It seemed to be a sporting event of some sort; the spectators were making bets on who would win. Once the match had ended, Gutt decided to stay and see exactly what type of competitors participated. One of the next competitors was violet furred, and dragged forward toward the pit by a leash of sorts around his throat. The kangaroo was struggling and snarling and snapping, as though wishing to fight the cheering crowd rather than whatever poor sap was pitched against him.

His body was littered with gashes, many of them appearing to be a fresh red shade. "_Poor brute,_" Gutt thought with only the smallest hint of pity. For someone apparently valued for his combat performance, one would think he'd receive better care from whoever was in charge of him. Yet something was off about this kangaroo, something that Gutt couldn't quite place. He watched as the leash was yanked off the fighter's head and he was shoved down into the pit, nimbly managing to scratch the face of the one who'd previously had all the control. The jack leapt back with a small growl, touching the gash in his cheek with an annoyed expression. Gutt watched the violet one tumble head over heels into the pit, landing miraculously in a crouch, looking ready for battle.

It was at that moment that Gutt realized what had irked him so; this contender had a pouch.

She was _female_.

The ape quirked a brow at such an epiphany, watching the jill stalk around the edge of the pit, surprisingly moving her legs independently of each other. She remained in a squat, stepping around slowly and glaring up at the ring of spectators. At one point she even began hissing at them in a very perturbed fashion, as though angry they were out of her reach and yet cheering for her to do battle. She was large for her gender; looking around, Gutt noticed that all the other present females were only have as tall as their counterparts, while the violet one had to be eight feet at least. She continued hissing and growling and slashing at anyone who reached down to try antagonizing her. Gutt sniffed disdainfully at such immature behavior. Her coloring was unusual too; none of the spectating females had such a bold colored pelt, or the same bright, golden eyes as the fighter down below.

"What secrets do you have, I wonder?" Gutt muttered to himself, watching the jill stalk slowly around the pit's outer ring, hissing and growling, snapping and slashing like a caged saber. Then he noticed something that _actually_ disturbed him; her pouch had a visible girth to it. One could only suspect she had a child. He lifted a brow; why throw a nursing mother, savage as she seemed, into a gladiator pit? At that moment the other fighter was thrown in, this one for _sure_ a male. He took a moment to find his bearings, before spotting the violet jill. Her head had turned with lightning speed upon sensing his presence, a feat that looked like it should have broken her neck.

Her golden eyes were locked onto him long before the jack began making his way over to her. She bent herself low to the ground, feet set in a wide stance, and hissed ferociously at him. Gutt minimally wondered at the back of his mind if that was a natural kangaroo sound or not. She shifted eagerly from foot to foot as he carefully hopped over, both creatures eyeing each other warily, calculatingly, in the jill's case. Gutt waited, watching, wondering what made this jill such a special fighter, a _survivor_, in such a brutal pastime. The violet jill stuck close to the edge, stepping side to side as if holding in energy as the jack approached her. Once he came within ten feet of her, she went eerily still, and pulled her paws in close to her abdomen, movements slow and deliberate.

Most of the spectators tilted their heads at her odd behavior, curious as if they'd never seen her fight before. Gutt had to admit; he was interested as well. The jack drew closer, expression suggesting he wondered at her behavior also. The jill waited until he was only twelve inches away from her, before suddenly making her move. In the blink of an eye, a pair of fishbone swords had been stabbed right through the jack, their tips extending several inches out of his back. The poor male's face had contorted in shock, eyes wide and jaw dropped open, inhaling a nearly silent gasp. Gutt lifted both brows in surprise.

The shocked exclamations of awe and disgust said plainly that no one had expected such a move. The two combatants stood still for a moment, before the jill withdrew her swords and used one foot to kick the jack's body away. He, now dead, flopped limply onto the ground, landing in a rather uncomfortable position, had he been alive. With that the crowd began cheering with extreme volume, and the fighter jill turned sharply to glare at them, eyes wide and wild as she looked around. She let out another loud hiss, half in victory, half in agitation. Seconds later, two more contestants were dumped into the pit, both taking a moment to reorient themselves, one on either side of the bowl shaped depression. The violet jill turned back and eyed them individually, slowly turning her head back and forth to observe them, one sword aimed at each new opponent.

Her body swayed slightly back and forth, blades following the flowy, up and down movements of her arms as she sized them up. Both new jacks approached her slowly, observing her as well. Gutt now knew what the lump in her pouch was. After a moment one of them charged at her, and she spun towards him in a full circle, locking her arms in an X-formation over her chest, then spread them apart in an outwards slashing motion, one of her swords cutting into the jack's chest as the other slit his throat. He let out a gurgled gasp of surprise before hitting the dirt, coughing and spazzing as he bled to death. The second jack tried an attempt from behind, which sadly, only served to make the jill more angry. She elbowed him smartly in the stomach and jerked herself around, stabbing each of her swords in between his ribs.

She quickly drew them back out and let the jack fall to the ground, turning sharply to glare at the crowd once more. The cheering and shouting had reached fever pitch, and it only made the jill angrier, her hisses loud and distinct despite the noise of the onlookers. Several more jacks were dumped in, ranging from one to five at a time, and the more opponents she had, the more extravagant the techniques she utilized. Her anger and defensiveness only fueled her fighting capabilities, which pleased the spectators more and more. At one point, she even pitched an especially decimating _beheading_ technique. She stood firmly on both feet and spun both swords in her paws as one jack sped towards her, then swung her arms forward and used her blades' momentum to slice right through the jack's neck in one clean, simultaneous stroke from both arms. Gutt resisted the urge to wince; instead he smiled throughout the performance.

Her actions were brutal and savage, but her techniques spoke otherwise; no matter how gruesome the results, no matter the egging on from the crowd, the jill's skill was professional and flawless. She sized up every enemy upon sensing their presence, and waited for _them_ to make the first move. Clearly, she'd been trained with these fishbone swords of hers, but why she wasted such talent in a simple fight-to-the-death ring was rather puzzling. After at least an hour of the savage battles, the one who'd lead the violet jill via leash suddenly reached down and took hold of her throat, pinning her against the wall of the bowl. She thrashed and hissed and growled like there was now no tomorrow, then began hacking and coughing, swinging her arms up and trying to fend off her master. He leaned his head back out of reach, while two other jacks reached down and shoved their paws into her pouch, retrieving a surprising amount of fishbone weaponry. Including the swords grasped in her paws.

After being stripped her of her apparently beloved tools, the jill was released, thrown forward to land on her stomach with a grunt. She instantly leaped up, already scanning the bowl for her next victim. None of the jacks that had faced her had come out alive, and even without her weapons she seemed confident she could still win. Now some of the spectators were calling out that it wasn't fair to leave a _jill_ defenseless against a slew of jacks, but her weapons were not returned. A few moments later, yet another jack was shoved down into the bowl. He smirked, seeming confident that he could beat a female that had no extra ways of fighting. "This should be informing," Gutt muttered to himself.

The jill would need skills of other sorts to defend herself if she ever _did_ lose all of her weapons. The new jack approached the violet jill slowly, as if giving her a head start. The jill waited a count of three seconds after her opponent's arrival, before surging across the bowl to him. She stopped just in front of the jack and dodged a jab to the face, before leaning back on her tail and kicking him to the ground. The jack landed flat on his back with a grunt, the apparent force exerted appearing strong enough to have knocked the wind out of him. Then came the shocking part. The jill slammed her large, single-toed foot down into the jack's stomach, her claw slicing into him somewhat, and then she bent down to take hold of his shoulders.

It was a great display of self defense technique, but of course something extra brutal was thrown in. She lifted the jack's shoulders into the air, and then bit down on his jugular vein. Exclamations rang out in the crowd as she gnawed on his neck, eliciting screams of pain from the victim. Her claws curled and dug into his shoulders, working with her foot to ensure he wasn't going anywhere. Gutt nodded to himself; again, it was brutal and savage, but it was smart, _skilled_. This jill had been trained in the art of combat, whether it be paw to paw or with the advantage of weapons. The poor jack only lasted thirty seconds into the brutal attack, and then he was thrown to the side.

His killer growled to herself and looked around eagerly for her next victim, mouth dripping with his blood. She hissed at the crowd angrily, which only brought on more cheering. After a short while of stalking the edge of the bowl, hissing and growling and slashing her claws at anyone who was stupid enough to try antagonizing her further, she was rewarded with another jack dumped into her territory. The giant bowl had become a bloodbath, littered with bodies, taken control of by this strangely colored and professionally skilled female. She was the queen, the alpha, the number one fighter of the entire event, and as long as she stayed in that pit, she ruled. And she gave no hesitation before slaughtering her newest competitor in the same fashion as the previous sap. Gutt grinned to himself, having seen enough.

She was skilled, she was brutal, and she could, in fact, be controlled, if her master and his leash were anything to go by.

And she was _perfect_.

"I get control of that beast," he muttered to himself. "And I'll have a new crew member,"

* * *

Night had fallen. No doubt Shira was thoroughly fed up with Squint's attitude by this point. Gutt had returned at sunset to retrieve something from the ship, and upon checking in with his crew, found both to be dissatisfied with their company. Surely a new 'friend' would spice things up, make things easier. After collecting the item of desire, Gutt returned to the area in which the savage display had taken place, finding his object of attention some meters from the fighting pit with the one who held her leash. "Settle down, you beast-sheila!" the jack's voice snapped irritatedly. "You've got yer' weapons, you've had dinnah', _and_ you've relieved yer'self!"

"Just go to sleep already! Ya' ain't gettin' away from me, and were stayin' _here_ for the night!" he commanded, the leash held tightly in his paws. But the jill resisted, leaning back on her tail and hissing loudly, paws scrabbling at the noose, which was dangerously tight on her throat. Gutt grinned and strode forward, standing off to the side, then cleared his throat. The jack turned to blink at him in surprise, while the jill froze and turned her head sharply to the side, golden eyes zeroing in on the ape and scrutinizing him as if he were to be her next victim. "Who are you then?" the jack inquired harshly.

"A fan, you might say," Gutt replied. "I'm impressed with your female's skill. Tell me, were you the one who taught her?" The jill's expression mellowed out upon realizing Gutt hadn't come to fight, nonetheless she gazed at him steadfastly, curiosity breaking through. The jack in control of her scoffed.

"Not on yer' nelly. I found her stirrin' up trouble with some dingoes; she seemed pretty angry, although why or at who I couldn't tell ya'," He suddenly gave a mean grin. "But she's got talent, and battle knowledge not even a _jack_ would have, generally," he continued. "I saw an opportunity and I took it. Besides, she brings in more than anyone else at the fights," he added with a shrug. Gutt nodded.

"I see," he replied, eyes flicking back over to the warrior. Her golden eyes hadn't left him; they analysed his face, his physic, everything about him, flicking perhaps a millimeter every few seconds to get a new angle of what he looked like. "_She's observant,_" Gutt thought. "_And smart, in more ways than one,_"

"She's feisty though; real temperamental. Hasn't stopped bein' mad or in the very least _irritated_ at _somethin'_ since I first saw her," the jack added with slight distaste. He gave a tug on the vine leash, and the jill's attention snapped from Gutt to him as she hissed lowly with displeasure.

"I can imagine," Gutt replied. "I don't suppose there'd be any way I could convince you to let me...take her off your paws?" he inquired. The jack blinked, turning back to Gutt, who produced a large jewel, blue in color and diamond in shape. The ape had a fondness for the shiny, precious stones that came from the earth, and he was well aware that kangaroos in particular had a natural attraction to _anything_ that shined or sparkled. Both kangaroos were instantly drawn to the jewel, the jill's eyelids dropping halfway and her stance relaxing slightly, while the jack went rigid. Gutt noted this with interest; perhaps there was more than one way to contain this jill.

"That's ah...that's quite a precious item, mate," the jack stuttered, eyes not leaving the shiny jewel. It was glinting rather temptingly in the moonlight, something Gutt planned to use to his advantage.

"In some ways, yes, I agree," he replied, grinning sneakily. "And, I suppose, even if silent, it would make much better company than _her_," he continued, nodding to the jill. The jack's eyes flicked over to the violet jill on the other end of the leash, who still seemed entranced by the shiny jewel. Her body was slowly loosening, her tense muscles relaxing as her breathing became deep and easy. He looked back at the object in Gutt's paw.

"Ah...well, if it's _genuine_ I'm sure it would fetch a hefty price," he said, clearly resisting the urge to reach out and grab it. Gutt shrugged.

"I agree; personally I think it's genuine enough for a master fighter," he replied. The jack's eyes flicked back to the violet jill, who appeared half asleep by now. Upon looking back at the jewel, he gave a grin.

"Ya' got a deal, mate," he said, holding the leash out to Gutt. The ape grinned, passing him the jewel and taking hold of the vine. The jill's head slowly turned, eyes never straying from the glinting jewel, taking no notice of what was happening.

"_I'll have to train her out of that_," Gutt thought. "_She'll need to be much calmer, but not_ this _calm_," It wasn't until her previous owner had gone some meters away with the jewel that the jill snapped out of her reverie, eyes turning to Gutt sharply and staring deeply at him. "Nothing to worry about," he assured with a grin. "Please, come with me," The jill blinked slowly, regarding him warily with a tilt of her head. She looked like she wasn't quite sure whether or not she liked her new owner.

"I'd rather not tug that knot any tighter," Gutt added. "So please, do as I say," The jill stood still for another moment, before glancing downwards and shifting her feet. She then moved one towards Gutt, then the other, but not hopping, as if she was unsure of herself. "Yes, that's it," Gutt encouraged, rolling his eyes, gently taking a step back. "Hop _this_ way," he instructed. She gave him a look that blatantly read, 'You're not going to _drag_ me?' before doing as he asked.

She hopped after Gutt, taking care to keep behind him at all times. The ape was careful not to choke her; he couldn't have his newest asset get injured before performing her duty. He led her up to a cliff edge that overlooked the sea, where he could give her a good view of the reflecting stars and moon, coupled with the ever-shimmering waves. There wasn't much of a glare, rather the light was soft and soothing. "Have you ever seen the sea before?" he inquired, turning to look at her. The jill seemed mesmerized by the shimmering waves, expression calm but not sleepy. She shook her head slowly, gazing out over the water.

"Ever smelt so much salt?" Gutt inquired next. The jill breathed deeply, then sighed, before shaking her head once more. "I trust it suits you," She glanced away, shifted her feet for a moment, before nodding, then looked out at the ocean once more. "Good. Because _this_ is your new home," Gutt replied, gesturing towards the navy blue and black expansion. The violet jill turned to look at him, blinking almost incomprehensively.

"All of it," the ape added. "The sea shall be your home, while you are on my crew," A soft breeze was blown in from the sea, and the kangaroo, curious, stood erect to her full, eight foot height, closing her eyes and leaning into the breeze as it played with her ears. Her arms slowly stretched our from her sides, claws tentatively stroking the wind. Gutt smirked. "Lovely, isn't it?" he inquired. The jill nodded, not yet opening her eyes.

The ape then stood and took hold of her jaw, turning her face to his with care. Her golden eyes opened to stare at him nervously. "Now, there's something you must understand," he began. The jill tensed, as if she'd heard such words before in a far worse situation. "I did not obtain you for wasteful entertainment," Gutt continued. "You will become a member of my crew; you will work, eat, sleep, and in all other ways live on my ship," Here the jill's eyes widened, golden orbs filling with tentative awe and wonder.

"Your combat skills will be put to use in a much more..._appropriate_ fashion," Gutt explained. At a slight tilt of the kangaroo's head, he added, "You will understand. And, another thing," Here Gutt slipped a claw in between the jill's throat and the leash, eliciting a wide eyed stiffening, and pulled the knot loose. "You can't very well be a pirate if you're constantly wearing a leash that trails all over the deck," he declared with a knowing smirk, before gently slipping it over her head. He then tossed it over the edge of the cliff, allowing it to disappear into the waves. The violet jill blinked several times in rapid succession, bringing a paw up to lay on her voice box.

After a moment she brought her other paw up, and laid both on her collar bone. "Do you understand?" Gutt asked. The jill stared at him for another moment, before slowly reaching into her pouch and drawing out a large sword, fashioned from the skull of a sawtooth shark. She then shakily fell to her knees, stabbing the sword into the cliff, and lowered her head. She took in several unsteady breathes, as if unused to even _breathing_ without the vine around her neck. "Look at me," Gutt commanded softly.

She obeyed.

Her eyes, though still piercing and sharp, we're different. The savage glaze had left them; clarity and sanity had replaced it. Her intelligence, her true potential as a skilled warrior, shone through in her gaze. The twinkling stars reflected in them, and Gutt could have sworn her focus shifted to the sky for a moment, eyes flicking a millimeter from focus to focus, as always. "You've had a very rough life, haven't you?" Gutt inquired, quirking a brow. Focus returning to his face, she nodded. "One would assume," the ape continued with an agreeing nod.

"But surely someone trained to have such skill, such focus, such self-control in such a brutal sport would still be above a dumb savage," he noted with interest, bringing one paw beneath her chin. She blinked at him once, taking in his words. "Speak," the ape commanded, gently poking her throat. She gave nary a jump, but rather lowered her head and wet her lips, bringing her palm up to wrap around her voicebox.

"Thank you," muttered a cracked voice that seemed just a tad bit deep for a female. "My life...was turned upsidedown...several years ago. I...I nevah' thought...I'd get a grip on myself...evah' again," she struggled, before lifting grateful, golden eyes to look up at her new captain. Gutt nodded.

"You were given a name?"

"Yes,"

"I'll need to know it," The jill reached up to lay her claws over her lips, glancing downwards.

"Rasmussen," she whispered, then flicked her gaze back up to Gutt's. The ape lifted a brow.

"Rasmussen?"

"Yes," Gutt nodded.

"Quite fitting; sounds like a snake hissing," he replied, referring to her signature response in the gladiator ring that day. She merely lowered her gaze, as if unsure how to respond to that. "But also like that of a sword sliding against a fellow weapon as it's drawn for battle," Gutt added. The jill looked back up at him, and, for the first time since Gutt had seen her, Rasmussen smiled. It was tiny, and nervous, but a smile all the same. "Your age?" Gutt inquired.

"Seventeen...sir," Rasmussen replied, tacking on the title as if afraid of angering him. Gutt quirked a brow. He looked her up and down for a moment.

"I don't suppose you've finished growing?" he inquired.

"Not til I'm twenty. Sir," she replied, dipping her head at the end with respect. Gutt hummed. "My mum...always said I...took my fathah's build," Rasmussen added, pausing to contemplate the implications of her words. It was clear she hadn't even _thought_ of her parents for a long time.

"You haven't spoken for a while either, have you?" Gutt inquired. Rasmussen shook her head.

"Not since I was fifteen," she replied. "Uh, captain," she added on afterwards. Gutt nodded.

"I won't ask why," he replied, before smirking. "That's Squint's job," he joked. Rasmussen blinked, looking a tad worried. "Don't worry about it," the ape assured, waving a hand. "You're skilled in several different weapon forms, correct?" he inquired. Rasmussen nodded eagerly.

"Yes sir!"

"And you can teach these forms to someone else?"

"Absolutely!" Gutt grinned.

"Perfect," he purred. "Do you have a nickname you go by?"

"...Raz," the jill replied. Her smile broadened. "They used to call me Raz,"

* * *

**Aaaaaaand first part done! Whew, that took a while! And there's still more to come. Namely that angsty past I mentioned earlier. Originally I wanted this to be a simple one-shot collection, but, now it's kind of become a multi-chaptered story with all the separate backgrounds weaving together...Anyways! Thank you to:**

**MBSAVfan1**

**FemaleJester1212**

**Anonymous**

**Anonymous**

**Anonymous (I think one of them may have reviewed twice, but just in case I put three!)**

**Corywolf**

**The What-If Writer**

**96DarkAngel**

**Til next chappie!**

**In Christ Alone,**

**KaylaDestroyer (Gal. 2:20)**


	3. A Fresh Start

Rescued Us

A Fresh Start Requires Cleaning Out the Old

Raz turned to take in the vast deck she now stood on; the sparkling waves soothed her in her new environment. She almost couldn't believe such a beautiful, large place was her home now. Being surrounded by water made her feel safer than she'd ever felt before; she'd heard of the ocean before, and as far as she knew, all the dangers lay below the surface. So unless someone managed to sneak up on her new ship, she would be safe from any harm, including ever returning to the fighting ring. Although, she didn't notice any sort of lookout posted; perhaps that was a feature yet to be added. Gutt came up beside her. "It's late; I suggest a warm bath and straight to bed," he muttered softly.

"Tomorrow you can meet the rest of the crew, including your new pupil," he added. Raz nodded silently, eyes drawn up to the bright, full moon. It had been so long since she'd taken the time to stargaze, or appreciate the white orb that ruled the night sky. "I'd also suggest forcing yourself to be more vocal until you're used to talking again," Gutt continued. "If you're going to be a teacher, your voice will be an important asset," Raz turned to him for a moment, bringing a paw up to her throat.

"Yes captain," she forced out, consciously keeping her voice smooth and submissive. The ape grinned and took hold of her chin once more, turning her face to his.

"Very good," he praised softly. "We'll look into your wounds tomorrow. For now, wash up and get a good night's rest," With that Gutt released her and turned to walk away. "With Squint, you'll need it," he added over his shoulder. Raz stared after him a moment, before turning to look in the other direction. Apparently he figured she'd find what she needed by herself.

Swallowing slightly, she hopped into the dark hallway at the stern, feeling the chilly ice beneath her feet. She explored several levels with different cells, before finally coming to the belly of the ship. She knew because there was a large pool of water that took up most of the floor. Her golden eyes widened. "This must be the very bottom," she muttered to herself. "Huh...that actually feels good," she added, massaging her voice box. "Once all the crackliness get's out,"

She slowly skirted around the large pool, wondering why the ship wasn't sinking or in the very least being flooded. "It's just liquid watah'...and this whole ship is frozen watah'...which is the lightah' one of the two, so...I guess the worst it would do is freeze, and then a new hole would hafta' be made," she muttered to herself.

"Very good," a deep voice rumbled. Raz spun around to face the entrance arch, drawing a sword from her pouch and dropping into a crouch, breathing heavily. Gutt nodded. "Good reflexes," he complimented. "I knew you were smarter than your occupation," he continued, turning to knuckle-walk on. "Oh and by the way," he added. "I appreciate keeping the hissing to a minimum,"

"Pirates are _offensive_, not _defensive_," he added. Raz held her position for a count of three before relaxing.

"What need would _pirates_ have for a 24/7 access bathtub?" she countered. Gutt chuckled.

"Well, considering this 'bathtub', as you like to call it, is filled with saltwater, and, we get sprayed by that daily, we simply demote _real_ baths to more of a monthly thing," he explained.

"So why send me down here?" Raz inquired skeptically, looking back at the enormous pool. Gutt chuckled a second time.

"It was more for the sake of your wounds than personal hygiene," Gutt replied, before officially moving on. Raz gazed at the entry arch for a moment, before shrugging and stepping down into the water. To her comfort, the ice extended down into the pool by shelve ring levels; it turned out to be deep enough for her to dunk herself. After going under several times and tainting the current shade of the pool, Raz stepped onto a higher shelf and began rubbing herself down. She winced as some of her scabs were pulled open, but massaged the saltwater into as many of her battle wounds as possible. Her legs and feet bore the brunt of her battle scars (which she hoped they would _not_ become), practically none of her violet fur showing through in between the red slashes and gashes that littered the iconic appendages. Her tail wasn't as bad, but still bore a good life story's worth of injuries.

She was lucky, being underaged, that she'd never broken or sprained her tail or her ankles. The ankle joint was the most important on a kangaroo; if it was too severely injured, the owner would rather die than spend the rest of his life unable to hop. And an injured tail, if to a serious enough degree, would render the same fate. Her pouch bore several small slices, but thankfully the inside wall and her stomach were uninjured, even with all the weapons she carted around in it. She didn't even bother taking them out. Her chest was relatively clean; there was one bright red, diagonal gash angled from her left shoulder to end in a point towards her right hip. Her arms held many lacerations, most of which were about a week old, in fact.

Her claws were covered in dried blood, which she scratched and scrubbed off with the aid of the salt water. Despite the pain, her movements were consistently slow and deliberate. It felt strange to be..._aware_ of herself again; conscious of her body's state. It was only by her glazed, savage, hatred and anger-filled mindset over the past two years that she'd survived the fights and become stronger. Not necessarily more skilled, but stronger. Her skills she'd obtained long ago, as a child. Speaking of skills, she was just a tad nervous about her new pupil; her memories had been steadily returning since the interactions at the cliff, and they were none too pleasant.

The last time she'd had someone under her supervision and tutelage...it hadn't ended well. She grimaced as the details of that memory surged to the forefront of her mind for a moment, before shoving them back to manifest in the back of her mind where she preferred. They could be dealt with later. Focusing back on her healing bath, she cupped her paws and lifted the saltwater to her face, closing her eyes to protect them. She splashed the water onto her face, rubbing it in, hissing in pain as a slash she'd received to the cheek that day stung with indignant protest. Not even her most recent fighting round was clear in her mind; the past two years of battle to the death were things her brain was unable to sort out, possibly due to the fact that the fifteen previous years worth of memories were dumping themselves into her head with a vengeance. But she tried not to focus on _those_ at the moment, lifting another cupful of water to her face and massaging it into her wounds.

She just wasn't ready to submit herself to their torture, not yet. She wanted to get a grip on her new reality before tearing herself apart on the inside with her old one. Once satisfied that she'd cared for her injured form the best she could, the teenage jill sloshed out of the pool and hopped out into the hallway. She remembered smelling several different animal scents in one hallway, and so returned to it. There was one in the middle on the left side that appeared empty, so she tentatively hopped inside. She found a towel made of a rough animal pelt pinned to the wall, with a larger one set on the floor. In fact, it appeared there was a bed fashioned of layers of soft, plush pelts on the icy deck, one of them balled up as a pillow of sorts.

Deciding this room to be as good a choice as any, she unpinned the rougher pelt and proceeded to dry her soaked fur, not caring that it ended up ruffled and tangled as had been the norm for the past two years. Her life from before was gone; why act like she would return? After ringing her ears out via twisting them within the rough pelt, Raz hung the towel back up and gave herself one last shake, before hopping tentatively over to the bed. She tilted her head at it for a moment, before crouching low and setting her paws on it. She then took several tiny, almost scooting hops forward, placing her feet within the large circumference of animal pelt, and gently rolled her hips over to lay on the floor. After a moment of resituation, she lay her much smaller upper body down as well, and rested her head on the pillow. She hissed softly in pain, not malice, as a particular slice on her neck protested for a moment.

Raz thought for a short while, knowing full well that sleep would mean submitting to the ever pressing memories slowly filling her once blank mind. She finally sighed and curled into a ball, closing her golden eyes and snuggling down into the furs, letting sleep overtake her.

* * *

_ The first thing that came to her was from Raz's joeyhood. She was sure she could remember back further than this, but didn't try. She was much smaller, much shorter, gazing up at her group of much older brothers eagerly. She was the youngest, the only daughter, and the last joey before her mother's untimely death, she knew. Her oldest brother, she didn't dare recall his name, gently scooped her up and hopped off, her eight other brothers following behind. Once they'd left the more occupied grounds of the mob, she was set down and a small blade, carved from fish bone, was placed into her paws. Living by the coast had its perks, especially in her family._

_ Little Raz giggled and bounced around for a moment, before standing straight and holding the small weapon at her side, staring with focus at her oldest sibling. Her remaining brothers paired up, each having brought his own blade, and began practicing. Raz's father had verbally forbidden she be taught any sort of combat art, but her brothers knew better. They had known the loss of their mother had hit him harder than anyone else, and that their little sister would be easy pickings if _someone_ didn't prepare her. So of course they had secretly carted her off every time they practiced, and had introduced her to larger, more complex weapons as she grew. But for this memory, in this time, all she sported was a small dagger. The much larger jack, almost an adult, she let herself recall, smiled gently and began explaining a new technique to her; a deadly move showcased in a way that appealed to such a young child._

_ She remembered the intense interest and joy she'd found in learning the art of blade fighting. It was in her blood, as her brothers had always told her. She still believed them. Things flashed and sped past her eyes, and she saw herself from only two years ago; a version of her that seemed alien and strange when compared to any other age. She wasn't that much smaller, and there was perhaps the tiniest shard of feminine style about her. She'd been a happy, wild tomboy, although at her father's insistence she kept her fur free of tangles and acted _somewhat_ ladylike around others of her kind. Barely having turned fourteen for a few months, she was already pestered by the other young jacks for her attention and favor, but she knew far better._

_ Her brothers had taken the time to warn her and make sure she knew what to do if one of the young males tried anything on her. She was totally prepared for anything they might try._

_ At least, that was what she'd thought._

_ When her father had suggested she go for a date with a particular young jack that pleased him, she'd merely rolled her eyes and agreed _just_ to appease him. She hadn't understood why he seemed so pleased with her accepting the idea, but she did later on. She hadn't realized just how severely he wanted her to be like her mother; the 'perfect female', as she was often referred to as. She had decided not to tell her nine, much older, extremely protective brothers; they probably would have flipped out and staked out in a circle around her for three days at the thought of her going on a date._

_ Now she knew they would have done so with good reason._

_ She didn't let herself remember the name of the young jack, perhaps a year older than herself; there was no point in remembering it, really. She had actually thought it _chivalrous_ of him to prepare lemonade for their outing; it was a rare drink in her mob's territory, so she'd thought nothing of it at the time. She had been very confused when, after the first ten minutes and a few swallows, she'd begun to feel dreadfully tired. Raz had stood and tried to make her way back home; she'd been raised to know that when her body was _this_ close to falling asleep, she was up too late, or hadn't slept enough the past few nights. But she _had_ been sleeping very well up to that point; what was wrong? But then he'd taken hold of her arm and offered to help her back to _his_ place, oddly enough. By this point she'd been half asleep, her thoughts muddled and her consciousness slipping away with every second._

_ So she'd agreed. Not ten minutes into the return trip home, she passed out. She'd been totally defenseless, and totally unaware of the plot being carried out. She had been ignorant to the truth behind the outing from the start._

_ But she had known, when she woke up the next morning, that there was a _reason_ she was in the jack's home rather than her own. She'd known exactly why she felt uncomfortable, and why disgust attacked her the moment she was conscious. After finding her date from the night before, already up and smiling smugly to himself as he ate breakfast, she gave him the best 'what-for' she'd been trained to give. Then the guilt, the shame, and self-depreciating stupidity had overcome her. As tears had started to run down her face, she'd hopped all the way home to where her brothers stood questioning each other about her whereabouts. She'd slammed herself into her eldest brother's chest and sobbed, recounting her nightmare in a tear-drenched rush. And despite her out of the blue appearance, he'd instantly understood every word._

_ Raz herself had been horrified when her two second and third oldest brothers brought her father out for questioning, and the jack revealed his entire plot. Her frozen, hurting body had been passed to one of her other brothers as the eldest began shouting and ranting at her father until going blue in the face. It had to have been at least three days before she stopped crying and sobbing, and two more before she would let herself be seen in public. Thankfully, very few kangaroos participated in the dreaded whispering behind her back, or in the corner of her eye. Most had offered condolences and comfort, then left her be until she asked for it. Her brothers had given her the most encouragement. She hadn't been ruined, they'd told her, again and again._

_ She'd been violated, injured, mistreated, but was still worth as much as any other young jill. "Yer' still a livin' creature, sheila; worth as much as any othah' untied jill. If anyone says different, they ain't worth listenin' to," her eldest brother had said._

_ And he'd told her the same thing when she'd informed him she would be having a baby boy._

_ Her father had been much too pleased by the news; it had only made Raz feel even more abused. But her brothers had dished out the right amount of emotions to her; they congratulated her, promised to help her with the joey, but admitted they weren't happy she would be put through motherhood at fourteen. They didn't share their father's viewpoint, but they were eager to meet their new nephew. Thankfully her memories of the labor were murky and unclear; Raz was able to bypass them quickly. She could remember feeling the tiny joey finally wriggling down into her pouch and getting comfortable, her three oldest brothers surrounding her like guards as a midwife dabbed cold water to her face. Her six other brothers had remained outside the cave, inquiring every few minutes how things progressed and when they would be allowed in. They also provided extended security in case some other misfortune tried its hand at affecting their precious baby sister._

_ Once things had calmed down, they politely shooed the midwife out and all nine had sat around her, patting her shoulders and stroking her ears and rubbing her arms comfortingly. Her eldest brother (now she wished she could remember his name) had held her to his chest, cuddling her as if she were a joey again. Raz had never felt as small as she did that day. They'd all gently but eagerly inquired what she was going to name him; a thought that had given Raz an almost privileged feeling. She had her own little joey, and she could name him whatever she wanted. The idea had made her feel even more attached to the child than she already did._

_ Kukri. She'd declared his name Kukri._

_ This had made her youngest (but still older) brother very proud; the kukri had been his choice of personal blade. They'd all been proud of her; for naming the joey, for determining to keep him and raise him. Raz had been proud of herself. After Kukri's birth she had avoided her father at all costs; she didn't want him to lay eyes on her precious son, neither did she want to give him the closing pleasure of seeing the fruits of his success. Kukri's father approached her once after he'd been born; he'd waited until she was all alone, spinning a weapon in her fingers, away from the more crowded grounds of the mob. Upon seeing the slightly older teen's bruised, scarred form approaching her, Raz had laid the sword over her pouch and given him a sneer, demanding what he wanted from her._

_ "I...I just wanted to say sorry," were the first words out of his mouth._

_ Raz had blinked in surprise and relaxed her stance, quirking a brow. "Yer' sorry?" she repeated suspiciously. Her joey's father nodded._

_ "Aye. I...I was stupid to do that to you, to let yer' da' talk me into making that mistake," he replied. "And...I just wanna' make sure you an' junior are alright," he'd admitted. Raz had been touched; he sounded rather responsible at that moment. She'd glanced away, eyes angling down to her pouch._

_ "Well...were both doin' just fine," she had replied gently. The teen jack smiled tinily. "An' I...I'd like to forgive ya', I just..."_

_ "It's a process, I undah'stand," he had filled in. "I just wanted you to know," After a moment he had added, "Can I uh...can I see 'im?" Raz had blinked a second time, before beckoning him closer with a nod. Smile brightening further, the teen jack had inched closer hopefully. Raz had pulled her pouch open slightly, allowing him to peer inside at their joey. Kukri had still been very small, only two months old._

_ The father tentatively reached inside to stroke the Kukri's head, before respectfully stepping back. Then the two teens had shared a small smile as Raz closed her pouch. Raz hadn't been able to completely forgive him yet, but they had been on the mending path. It had been more than what most teenagers their age had after going through what they'd done. "Take care of 'im for me, alright?" the young jack had requested. "I'm supposed to stay away from ya' now, but...I wanted to make sure you were both okay," Raz had nodded in understanding, then promised she would do as he'd asked._

_ After that he had turned to leave, and the two had never spoken again._

_ It had been an easy promise to keep; her brothers had informed her of everything they possibly knew to help her care for the tiny joey, and she had even felt confident enough to inquire of some of the older jills in the mob. If anyone decided to look down upon or glare reprimandingly at the distended pouch on her fourteen year old form, Raz would dismiss them by lifting her chin and declaring, "My joey's just as important as any of yours!"_

_ "He could be leadah' someday!" That had been her plan, in fact; she would raise her son up strong as he could possibly be, teach him as many blades as she could, (enlisting her brother's help of course) and prepare him for the day he decided to challenge his grandfather for rule over the mob. He'd had as much right to fight for it as any other jack, and she'd hoped he would be interested in it once he'd grown. If he didn't, she would have made sure he was strong, skilled, and respectful; a warrior like his uncles._

_ But alas, even those plans of good intention had been smashed._

_ She remembered Kukri's features; his light pink nose, his piercing green eyes, his dark auburn fur, and his fiery spirit. After his first trip out of her pouch, he'd been enthralled with the world, constantly trying to escape and have adventures. And as much as Raz had wanted him to experience the world, she'd been deathly afraid he'd hop off and get into trouble she wouldn't be able to save him from. Having nine older brothers had helped to corral her adventurous son, but Kukri eventually found a weak spot in their barrier against danger. It hadn't been the surprise she was expecting when she awoke on her fifteenth birthday to find her pouch empty and each of her brothers asleep late that morning. Hysterical with fear, she'd beelined for Kukri's favorite playtime spot; the same place her brothers had taken her for training when she was his age. She'd felt immense relief when she saw him afar off, chasing a pretty butterfly in circles, giggling to himself._

_ Somehow she'd missed the signals, all the warning scents that would have alerted her to act quicker. She'd taken but one hop towards Kukri when a dingo sprung out of the brush nearby, pouncing for him with its claws outstretched. Her body had reacted as fast as it could have; she'd had enough sense to fill her pouch before coming to look for her son, and so she'd pulled one out and leaped forward with an angry cry. She'd kicked the first attacker off with both feet and stabbed him through the ribs, before spinning around to check on her son. Kukri had lain blinking dazedly on the ground, shaking and trying to focus on his mother. A small cut had angled down his cheek, and it had inflamed Raz's temper like nothing ever had before. A second dingo had strode from hiding and growled at her, before launching itself at the larger meal._

_ Knowing she couldn't have afforded Kukri the safety of her pouch at that point in time, the teen mother had stood protectively overtop the joey and sliced at the dingo with two swords, effectively warding it off. She'd turned as two more came at her from either side. She'd aimed both blades outwards, switching her focus between them as Kukri whimpered and began to cry beneath her. She remembered feeling his small paws trying to pull her pouch open and crawl inside. "No Kukri!" she'd commanded sharply, knowing the child would impale himself. His only safe spot had been in between her feet. Kukri had merely whimpered and curled up in a ball on the ground beneath her._

_ "Mummy," he'd whimpered. His first word, she remembered. The first time he'd called her by any sort of title, the first time he'd spoken in his tragically short life._

_ Gazing softly down at him, she'd been far too distracted._

_ Before she could have offered a comforting word, something sharp had stabbed into her back and she'd found herself being pushed forward. With a grunt and a cry she'd hit the dirt and wrenched herself over onto her back, stabbing the dingo in its chest and throwing it off her. Then a scream unlike anything she'd ever heard had slammed into her ears, and her eyes had widened as she saw three of the hunters surrounding her son. "_NO_!" she'd shrieked, racing forward to stab one of her son's attackers and kick him away. But Raz had known, before she'd laid eyes on Kukri's tiny, bleeding form, that she had been too late. With a cry of ire and despair, she'd begun mercilessly attacking the two remaining dingoes, not caring that their claws stabbed into her and slashed through her flesh as they scuffled. She had only been concerned with making them pay for her joey's life._

_ More dingoes came to replace them, but Raz hadn't cared. As she hacked and slashed and stabbed at the predators, she'd called out for her brothers, one by one. "_MACHETE_!" Machete had been the eldest. Then there was, "_KHOPESH_!" After Khopesh was, "_XAVIER_!"_

_ After Xavier there was, "_AIDEN_!" After Aiden there had been, "_ESTOC_!" The six oldest was, "_TAKOBA_!" The seventh oldest had been, "_CHASE_!" After Chase was, "_ARCHER_!" And the youngest of her older brothers had been, "_SHAMSHIR_!" When they all failed to make a quick appearance, she had become desperate enough to scream for Kukri's father, "_JIAN_!"_

_ But none of them came to help her; she had been left alone to face her son's killers. As anger and despair took hold of her entire body, Raz had fought harder and harder, slowly taking on an entire pack's worth that had been drawn by the sound of battle and the smell of blood. She had glimpsed, out of the corner of her eyes, one of the scoundrels dragging away her baby's lifeless body. Then the ground shook beneath her feet as she let out a scream that made her own head rattle. "_KUKRIIIIIIIIIIIIIII_!" She wasn't sure how much longer after that she slaughtered, before a vine loop had been secured around her neck from behind and someone had begun tugging her away from the crime scene of Kukri's death. Too overcome with emotion to speak, she merely hissed loudly and struggled against her new bond, slashing for her captor and trying to get free._

_ The next two years were a blur she couldn't discern even in dreamland. But now that her mind had been righted, the gory snippets that she could make out horrified her._

_ Raz couldn't take it anymore._

* * *

Raz, now seventeen, shot to her feet with a sobbing gasp, tears exploding from her eyes as she lost her balance and fell onto her side on the cold ice. She gasped open mouthed for a moment, before grabbing the edge of the bed and shoving it into her face. Then she began to scream, and cry, and sob, and gasp, for only one person. She didn't shed tears for her own mistreatment; she and Jian had solved that, even if she'd never taken the time to properly forgive him. She didn't pity all the pain she went through just to _have_ her one joey. No; she mourned over her son's death, something that was long overdue. The anger had worn off now; there was nothing left but the despair and depression.

The more she remembered his mischievous smiles, the more she thought of her nine older brothers, the more she remembered all her years of training, the more her heart broke and the more she verbally proclaimed it. But she couldn't let anyone hear it, _especially_ not her new captain. She had to keep it in _this_ room; this was where everything was going to end, she decided. So she let the memories replay themselves over and over again, torturing her to the fullest extent. She held nothing back from herself; she was going to come to terms with all of it for good. At one point she clamped her mouth shut and pulled out two of her favorite swords, then began hacking into the ice room around her. She wasn't sure what emotion was exerted by it, but it made her feel a bit better.

When the tears and sobs surged back to the surface, she quickly shoved both swords back into her pouch and collapsed into her bed, shoving the pillow into her face so she could scream and sob and shed tears again. She let it all out, now matter what it was, as long as she could keep it from everyone else.

If she couldn't accept her past and move on from it, then she would have no future.

* * *

**I warned you guys...multiple times. So I am not responsible for any overhanging depression after reading this chapter.**

**Anyways, I'm back! My teachers are all at a SCACS convention at the beach for the rest of this week, so I'll have plenty of free days to work on stories! Specifically, I will be uploading a special little something that MBSAVfan1 and I have been working on for...several months now, I'm not quite sure how long. but we've gotten at least one story out of about three completed! XD So yeah, the beginning of that goes up after this. Please review and tell me what you guys thought of this chapter! Thank you to:**

**96DarkAngel**

**Anonymous (P.S. Well actually I imagined it as more of a gladiator pit. XD)**

**Corywolf**

**Guest**

**FemaleJester1212**

**MBSAVfan1**

**The What-If Writer**


	4. A Quick and Informing Introduction

Rescued Us: A Quick and Informing Introduction

Raz reported for her new duties the next morning at sunrise. She'd made sure to wash any tear stains off her face, and hoped her eyes weren't red or puffy. Already her fur was beginning to take on the scent of the sea, and she welcomed the change. She wanted _nothing_ that would remind her of her old life; she wanted all things new, now that she'd gotten through her past. Gutt was at the wheel, keeping the ship steady, and, to her surprise, a grey, female saber, with black stripes branch down her back, was perched on the bow, looking out over the sunrise. Raz, standing on the deck and feeling rather out of place, turned to her captain and saluted him. "Mornin' Captain!" she called up.

It felt so good to speak again. The gargantuan ape grinned evilly down at her, leaning on the wheel. "Good morning!" he called back. "I suggest you steer clear from the piles of fruit until he starts eating," he added. Raz tilted her head, but all the same took a tentative step back. A soft laugh sounded from across the way, and she turned to see the saber smirking at her.

"I pity you," she called over, before turning back to the waves. "That boy couldn't obey a female in charge to save his _life_," she added. Raz quirked a brow, wondering exactly what her new pupil would be like. The fact that it was a young male child didn't bode well for her healing heart. Something brushed past her foot, and she glanced down to see the empty deck.

"Huh-?" she muttered. Perhaps it was a stray sea breeze. She jumped as a nearby fruit pile, of small but reasonable size, exploded suddenly, fruit flying in all directions. She jumped back and let out a small hiss, before regaining her composure quickly. She didn't want to disappoint her new captain so soon. Wriggling amongst the scattered fruits was a little gray creature, with long ears that flopped loosely like her own. He was running around and grabbing up pieces of fruit larger than himself, before tossing them into the air.

As they fell, he sliced and diced them apart into much more edible pieces for his tiny mouth. Soon a portion of the deck was a sticky mess, covered in fruit juice with floating, nicely cut chunks. Satisfied, the small animal plopped on his behind and plucked up a tidbit of mango, munching on it with vigor. With the chance to actually _see_ him properly, Raz realized it was a young rabbit kit, not even an adolescent, lacking any sign of his kind's buck teeth. She blinked in surprise; how did someone so _young_ end up on a ship out at sea? And since when did _rabbits_ start learning any sort of extra-weapon combat? "Uhhhhh..."

"Meet your new student, Raz," Gutt called down. "Squint!" The young kit perked up and whipped his neck around with speed that should have _broken_ it, making the jill wince. "Meet your new teacher," 'Squint', as his oddly suspicious expression was so appropriately named, whipped back around to inspect her, his tiny green eyes flicking from one aspect to another with intrigue. Raz tilted her head and regarded him as well.

"Who're _you_?" he demanded, before popping another bite of mango in his mouth and crossing his arms. Raz quirked a brow; despite his small size and age, he seemed to have no fear of anything.

"Name's Raz," she replied tentatively, sizing him up. Squint lifted a brow of his own, before scoffing.

"I thought that was a guy's name," he replied, before shoving a piece of apple in his mouth. Raz gave him a deadpanned glare.

"It's _both_," she ground out through clenched teeth. Squint rolled his eyes.

"Right," he replied skeptically. Raz crossed her arms and opened her mouth to speak, but the kit interrupted her. "So what, Gutt brought you on board to replace my mom?" he inquired with an insulting tone, although she detected a hint of bitterness. Her jaw hung open for a moment.

"_Replace his_ mother_?_" she wondered. "_Was he _born _on this hunk of ice?_"

"If he did it would have been the smartest decision he's ever made," the female saber commented. Squint scowled at her with a hatred and vengeance painted on his face that frightened Raz.

"NO ONE _ASKED_ YOU!" he shouted back heatedly. "It's your _fault_ she had problems _anyway_!" he added stingingly. The saber turned to growl at him for that, the fur down the middle of her back raising angrily.

"Her problems _started_ when _you_ were _born_ you little-!" she began angrily. Raz felt an odd pang of emotion at such a statement; it seemed that Squint and he-whom-would-not-be-mention-by-name had a little something in common. Squint jumped to his feet and brandished his knife (which was a bit large for his body) at the offending sabertooth.

"_YOU_ took her _RIGHTFUL_ position _cat-wench_!" he insulted back interruptingly. "_I_ was the _ONE_ thing that made her _HAPPY_!"

"Oh is _THAT_ what she told you?!" she shot back.

"_YEAH_! An' I trust my _MAMA_ more than I trust _YOU_!" Squint shouted back, looking to be a horrifying mixture of stir crazy and uber ired. Raz's eyes widened as the conversation was exchanged. It was when Squint raised his knife, clearly in preparation to _launch_ it at the saber, that she intervened.

"_ENOUGH_!" the jill shouted, startling both warring creatures. "Jackrabbit; weapon _down_, bum on the _deck_, and lips _togethah'_!" she commanded, turning to Squint. The buck blinked at her for a moment, before plopping back down on his behind and letting his knife slap onto the deck beside him, lips pursed as he tilted his head at her with squinted suspicion. As if he was trying to figure out _why_ he'd obeyed her. Raz then rounded on the female saber, her blood boiling at the treatment she'd given to a _child_ that had lost his _mother_ so early in life. "And _YOU_! I don't know _who_ you think ya' are, an' I don't _care_ what rank ya' have, but someone of your _age_ ought to know _bettah'_ than to insult someone concernin' his _mum_!" she raved.

"And if ya' harass my _pupil_ like that again, I _will_ be dishin' out _punishment_!" she added threateningly. Both Squint and the saber were staring at her incredulously as a slow clapping sound came from above. Feeling embarrassed but not showing it, Raz slowly turned to see her captain smirking down at her, as if pleased.

"Well done, Blademaster," he praised. The teen jill felt humbled by such a title. "I knew you'd be able to solve at least _some_ of this ship's problems," he added.

"Captain, I, I-" she stuttered, half of her brain trying to apologize for some nonexistent crime while the other half processed the shock that she had passed some sort of test.

"Get your breakfast and begin training him; _Shira_ won't be _harassing_ him anymore. Right, First Mate?" Gutt continued, waving off her discomfort nonchalantly. Raz blinked in shock; not only had she just acted like a total _mother_, but she'd sassed out the _second_ in _command_? 'Shira' bared her teeth and gave a low growl, flicking her angry blue eyes to Raz, then Squint.

"Yes..._Captain_," she hissed.

* * *

**Hey ya'll, I'm back! Sorry I haven't updates in a while; things have been hectic at my place, and I've been working on 'Mysty Waters'. The next chapter is three times as long as the previous ones, but thankfully I'm at the point of transferring it over to a doc on this website. ****So it should be up soon!** Sorry _this_ one is so short; I have several ideas for the next chapter though, an Gupta will be appearing soon... Thank you to: 

**MBSAVfan1**

**The What-If Writer**

**Bombina**

**mwang**

**for reviewing the previous chapter! Plz review and let me know what you all think!**

**In Christ Alone,**

**KaylaDestroyer (Gal. 2:20)**


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